


Smoke Break

by Wherever_Girl



Category: Fangface (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 03:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16631813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wherever_Girl/pseuds/Wherever_Girl
Summary: Even when you're trapped inside a creepy house in the dead of night, there's always reason to have a cigarette. At least, that's Puggsy's reasoning, anyway.





	Smoke Break

**Author's Note:**

> Based off fan art by KarmicIllusion on DeviantArt. Credit to picture goes to that user, as well as special thanks for giving me inspiration for this short story, as well as permission to include their work.

_It’s been 30… no, 45 minutes I think? Maybe an hour? Geez, how late is it, anyway?_

That’s all that went through the teenager’s head as he walked through the dark corridors of the house. Leo ‘Puggsy’ Braverman wasn’t too shaken up at the fact that he was exploring an old abandoned Victorian-style house in the middle of nowhere; he had been doing reckless shit like this since he was fifteen. It was pretty much how he spent his Saturday nights--- better than having to rely on _Penthouse_ to beat the boredom, at least.

Right now, though, he could really go for a cigarette. He looked at his watch again; they had entered the house about 10:00, and he had a smoke a few minutes beforehand. It was getting close to 11.

There came a howl, just a couple feet from where he stood. He only sighed. While he was busy counting the minutes, his search-companion, Sherman ‘Fangs’ Fangsworth, had looked out the window at a full moon and was now sprouting fur and fangs--- well, at least one fang. _Fuck, not this shit again…_ Puggsy thought, as the werewolf, Fangface, grabbed him and started shaking him around.

If anyone went through it the first few times, they would be pissing themselves at the mere thought of being man-handled by the beast. For Puggsy… damn, he lost count after fifty. It was more of an annoyance, considering out of the _whole_ group, the werewolf would attack him with each transformation.

Every. Frickin’. Time.

“Knock it off, dumbass!” Puggsy sneered, prying himself out of the werewolf’s grip. “We’re friends, remember?”

“Since when do friends call each other ‘dumbass’?” Fangface retorted, showing that he was becoming less of a goof-wolf and more of a smart-ass each day.

The shorter teen rolled his eyes. “I told you--- that’s how guys interact. Swapping insults is a way of establishing a friendship,”

The werewolf smirked. “Whatever you say… _douchebag_.”

Puggsy shook his head. In the past, the two never called each other such crude nicknames; but lately, with the stress of college classes, job searches, and the lack of dates, the stress caused them to exchange vulgar insults. …Well, he did at least. Fangface just rolled with the punches.

“So, what are we doing, this time?” his lycanthropic friend asked.

The shorter teen rubbed his face. “We gotta find a book,” he replied, trying to remember the details of their investigation. He had been doing this for so long that he could easily lose interest in their exploration. “Something about how to summon zombies, or something…”

“Oh, okay.” The werewolf scratched his head, looking as if he forgot something.

Of course he did, Puggsy knew. He forgot himself.

His friend suffered from a split-identity disorder; some things he could remember as a human, other things he could remember as a werewolf. They once tried taking him to a psychiatrist in order to help him learn about his two selves, but the doctor claimed it would only end up confusing him; in time, once he was more mature, Fangs and Fangface would gradually find out about each other and be able to comprehend.

_What a quack_. Puggsy had thought. But, try as they might, no one could convince their friend that he had two identities. Of course, as time went by, their friend seemed to be getting a little wiser about it… somewhat. Fangs wasn’t the brightest kid in their class, and Fangface was no different.

They came across a library; dust-covered books sat on shelves decorated with cobwebs, a couple leather chairs with holes sat on the far side of the room by an overturned end-table, a vase baring a long-withered plant sat in the corner, and a bust of William Shakespeare (missing a nose) sat near one of the windows.

“The book might be in here somewhere, you think?” Fangface guessed, beginning to browse the shelves.

“Maybe,” Puggsy muttered, though had his doubts. Unless their current villain was a complete idiot, there was no way someone would be dumb enough to keep a spellbook in such an obvious location. A really dumb move, considering it would be the only thing that wasn’t collecting dust.

Fuck, he really needed a cigarette.

He pretended to browse the shelves. Biff or Kim probably found it already and were on their way back to them… unless they got captured. Why they still considered them the ‘leaders’ of the gang, he had no idea--- namely it was _him_ coming up with ideas once the twosome got caught, Biff only pitching in a plan once the group was gathered. Otherwise, it was up to him and Fangface to ‘save the day’ ninety-five percent of the time.

“Nothing but old plays, fairytales, dictionaries, encyclopedias, and biographies over here,” Fangface reported.

“Zilch over here,” Puggsy replied, not that he had to look hard. All these books had cracked spines and looked like they hadn’t been open since they were first published. He rubbed his face. “C’mon, lets go find Biff and Kim,”

_SLAM!_

Before either could take another step, the doors to the library slammed shut and--- Puggsy didn’t even have to guess--- were locked from the outside. “Go. Fucking. Figure.”

“Don’t worry, Pugs! I’ll get us out of here!” Fangface exclaimed, using that heroic-tone that he loved to use.

“Have at it,” Puggsy replied, leaning against the window (avoiding the walls and bookcase, having enough experience to know that doing so while his friend wasn’t looking always resulted in a hidden passage opening from behind and sending him God knows where). While the werewolf was using his ‘Big Bad Wolf’ huff-and-puff technique, he decided to do some puffing himself and took out a cigarette and a lighter.

Two clicks, and he was inhaling the bitter taste of the nic-stick. He relaxed a bit, breathing out the smoke.

It was three seconds before Fangface turned in his direction, catching the scent. “You know that’s bad for you,” he muttered. “It damages your lungs,”

“Whatever,” Puggsy replied. He started smoking when he was 13, despite his mother warned him it would stunt his growth--- considering he was 19 and still remained the shortest in the group, she was probably right--- and he had yet to suffer any health problems. He was still athletic enough to [try to] outrun a werewolf during a chase.

Fangface crossed his arms, giving him a look. “You know, you could help me out,” he pounded his fist on the door. “These doors are stuck tight,”

“So break ‘em open with your strength,” The short teen gave him a sly look. “Or is the ‘Big Bad Werewolf’ growing soft?”

The werewolf snarled, his yellow eyes becoming aglow, and he charged at his friend. “I’ll show you soft…!”

_Three, two, one…_  Puggsy stepped back, sticking his foot out and tripping Fangface! While the werewolf was sprawled out on the ground, the teen casually sat down on his back, continuing his smoke-break. “Sit. Stay. Good boy.” He remarked, breathing in another puff.

“Dammit, Pugs, get off me!” Fangface snarled; he had the mind to buck him off, but with the disgruntled look on his friend’s face, the act would probably result in the ignited-end of the cigarette getting smothered into his hide. “We have to get out of here, you fuck-ass!”

“Yeah, yeah,” The teen breathed out smoke, his eyes turning on a broken clock on the wall. He figured it would be five minutes before either they were saved by Biff and Kim, otherwise the couple were probably locked away somewhere themselves. The villain was probably somewhere boasting about his evil plans to summon a zombie army to cause mayhem or shit like that.

Fangface shifted, resting on one elbow while giving his friend a glare. “What’s your problem tonight? You’re acting like more of a dick than usual,”

“Walking around a dead house in the middle of the night isn’t exactly what I’d call relaxation,” Puggsy looked at his watch again. Twenty after eleven.

The werewolf sneered. “Being used as a bean-bag chair isn’t relaxing either…”

“You’re more like a throw rug,” Blowing out one more puff,  Puggsy dropped the cig-stub on the ground, smothering it with his shoe as he slipped off the werewolf’s back.

_Whump!_

_Should’ve seen that coming._ The teen thought as Fangface pounced on him, pinning him to the ground.

“Not so nice to be treated like a cushion, is it?” The werewolf taunted, keeping his full weight on his friend.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Now get off me,”

Fangface only gave him a look, not even budging; there was a time when he would abide by his friend’s orders after an apology, but as time went on he grew to be stubborn. “Not until you promise me you’ll stop smoking,”

Puggsy sneered. “I’m making no promises,”

The werewolf firmly settled his full weight on him. “Then I guess we’ll be here a while,”

The teen grunted, shifting to make sure his lungs weren’t crushed. “Fucking--- C’mon, Fangface, we have to get going! Biff and Kim probably got captivated again, and that weirdo is on the loose,”

His friend rolled his eyes. “This coming from the asshole who decided to take a smoke-break during the investigation,”

Puggsy groaned; sure, the werewolf had a point, but… dammit, when did nit-wolf turn into the smart-ass? “Fine… I’ll TRY to cut back on smoking, how’s that?”

Fangface held up his paw. “Gimme your pack--- that way I can keep track for you,”

“No fucking w---!” he paused, seeing the werewolf giving him a firm expression. He sighed, reaching into his shirt-pocket and handing over his pack. There were two cigarettes left. “Alright. Here.”

With a nod, Fangface tucked the cigarettes into his cap. _Big deal,_ the short teen thought as they both got up. _I can shake ‘em off Fangs later._

Using his werewolf-strength, Fangface pried the doors off their hinges, and the two made their way around the house; sure enough, Biff and Kim had been locked up in the attic, and the villain found the book and was off to the cemetery. As they drove there, Biff was talking about how they managed to find a way to reverse whatever spell that could raise the dead, and was already talking about how to capture the kook.

Puggsy looked ahead, seeing that the villain got a head start and there were zombies lurking around the front of the cemetery, dark clouds full of lightening were swirling overhead, and their maniac was cackling like a madman.

He looked at his watch. Five minutes after midnight.

_This is going to be a long night,_ the short teen thought, rubbing his face and preparing for the disaster ahead.

And his friends wondered why he smoked five packs a day.

 

 

 


End file.
